Disclaimer: The Star Wars universe belongs to George Lucas, I own none of the characters or settings to be found herein. No profit is being made from this work of fanfiction.

A/N: I make no apologies for this excessively silly work of absurdity.


As the cloner shuffled cheerfully through his datapads, Cad Bane and Aurra Sing stared in shock and alarm at what was going on behind the one way mirror.

The little Duros boy and tiny near-human girl on the other side appeared to be industriously engaged in the task of colouring in paper drawings with brightly hued crayons.

Eventually it was Bane who broke the horrified silence.

"So let me get this straight, son. You cloned us. And, in the words of your own holonet post, you did it 'for the lulz'."

The Kaminoan, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he'd succeeded in enraging two of the galaxy's most dangerous individuals, merely shrugged, a movement that looked distinctly silly on a being of his build. "I also wanted to win the bet."


"Nohb Raen wagered eight-hundred thousand credits that I wouldn't be able to produce both of them. But he was wrong. A Duros is more difficult than a human, of course, and a hybrid does require some unique adjustments, but the underlying principles are the same for all humanoids."

Bane, fury at once soothed by the mention of large sums of cash, was about demand that all credits be handed over with immediate effect, when there was a disturbance on the other side of the reinforced glass.

The girl was kicking the boy hard in the shin and trying to wrest an orange crayon from his hand.

"Give back," she screamed. "Minni's crayon. Give back."

"Meanie poodoo head," the boy retaliated, before yanking the girl's stubby auburn ponytail.

The girl responded by bursting into tears and repeatedly kneeing him in the stomach.

"Hey, what's that little chit doing?" Bane demanded, affronted by the Aurra-clone's vicious assault on his own unnatural abomination.

"He asked for it," Aurra shot back, obviously rooting for the miniature version of herself. "He took her crayon."

"If she wanted it so badly she should have kept a better watch on it."

"What do you think she's doing now?"

"Too little, too late. She's lost her chance. She just doesn't realise it yet."

This as it transpired, was true. When she let go of the crayon in order to use both her hands to hit him, the little Duros boy took the opportunity to put the crayon his mouth. When he pulled it out a few seconds later, wet and partially chewed he grinned and offered it to the girl, who stared at it with deep disgust, before running off to the beanbag in the corner of the nursery for a good hearty cry.

Bane smiled, a strange sort of pride flooding through him.

"Filthy little sleemo." Aurra scowled.

Bane chuckled. "It's not his fault the competition ain't up to scratch."

"She'll retaliate."

"She'll scream and kick and make a lot of noise, but that won't change anything. He's at the top of his game."

"For now. One day she'll get her fingers around his neck and squeeze."

"Sure, sure." He made a dismissive gesture.

"I mean it."

"Ain't happened yet, Sing." He gave her a nasty smile. "Ain't going to happen either"

The Kaminoan cleared his throat.

Suddenly aware of the scene they were making, both bounty hunters lapsed into a brief yet intensely awkward silence.

On the other side of the glass another child, a robust little Weequay boy, was attempting to comfort the sobbing girl by giving her a toy blaster to play with.

"This is ridiculous," said Aurra. "We didn't come here for this."

"Right," Bane agreed. This ridiculous argument was getting them nowhere... What those kids needed to do was pool their resources, recruit the Clawdite toddler who was currently cuddling a plush tauntaun and formulate a plan for getting their hands on that Huttlet's stash of hologames. His little doppelganger might just be able to stiff his colleagues afterwards (if he could spit on the things without breaking them) but he'd need them to get past the Huttlet's Trandoshan buddy.